


Mochi Ice Cream

by OverOnTheBench



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: Arguing, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Life Partners, M/M, Slice of Life, Vignette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 05:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21387205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverOnTheBench/pseuds/OverOnTheBench
Summary: Hank and Cristobal argue at Whole Foods.Correction - they *only* argue at Whole Foods.A series of five short vignettes.
Relationships: Noho Hank/Cristobal Sifuentes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Mochi Ice Cream

**Author's Note:**

> I just love them. I wanted to make something soft for them because they deserve it, and my long-term projects are not cooperating with me, so this is my little break. I'll post a new part every couple days.

There’s no real stakes in bickering over quinoa. That’s why Hank found it so thrilling, at first.

“They didn’t like the black kind last time,” he protested as Cristobal pulled the lever on the hopper, letting some of the grain flow into a twist-tie bag. “Dmitri say it taste like bugs.”

“How does Dmitri know what bugs taste like?” Cristobal said with a grin. Hank crossed his arms, trying to hold in the intense, unfamiliar mixture of emotion he was experiencing. On one hand, it irritated him to no end that Cristobal would barrel on ahead without consulting him first. They were meant to be getting groceries for everyone, not just the Bolivian men. His friends’ tastes should matter, too. On the other hand, it was hard to stay irritated when Cristobal gave him that roguish smile. The unrelenting confidence from the Bolivian leader was exhausting and charming all at once.

“I think the white quinoa has more mild flavor,” Hank ventured. He grabbed his own twist-tie bag and watched Cristobal’s smile wither.

“I suppose. But the black holds its shape better. We are feeding a lot of guys, Hank. You want them to have mush?”

“No. I want them to not eat little baby bug shells.”

“Honestly, Hank, this conversation is not very productive.”

“You are telling me.”

Hank turned and stared at some boxes of multigrain cereal, only pretending to read their labels. It was cold, even in the dry goods aisle far from the freezers. While he was aware of his own irrational feelings, he didn’t want to try and overcome them in that moment. He needed to feel it out. Behind him, he heard Cristobal sigh. There was a rustling noise, then he was jolted by the sensation of a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Talk to me, Hank.” His voice was gentle and flowed over him, frictionless. “This is about more than quinoa, yes?”

Under Cristobal’s touch, Hank allowed himself to relax. His arms fell to his sides. “We are partners, right?”

“Of course.” The hand on his shoulder squeezed, like a punctuation. “Why?”

“...Sometimes, you do not always listen to my idea, Cristobal,” Hank said slowly. “I know, we are just trying to make healthy meals for the guys, and you know what you’re doing. But next time, we should perhaps talk it through before we come to the Whole Foods. Communication’s very important for us, right?”

Last time he’d spoken to someone in defiance, it hadn’t gone well. Hank realized he was shrinking away from Cristobal, and to re-center himself he turned to see his new friend’s face. It shocked him to see that the bright smile had returned.

“Communication,” he said, “is everything. You’re right. I’m sorry. I can work on my listening. I’m not used to my work being so collaborative, but it excites me. I want to make sure you feel heard. Now...what do you think we should do about our quinoa?”

Hank walked back over to the bins of grain, hoping to quell the heat blooming over his neck and cheeks. “Well, how about we get the red kind? It holds its shape better than the white, but it has less weird taste than black. Nice compromise. Also, it looks nice in salads. What you think?”

“Sounds perfect to me.” Cristobal was beaming.

“Awesomesauce,” Hank exclaimed, taking the bag of black quinoa out of the cart. The victory was tiny, but it belonged to them both. “Let’s hurry and bag this. They have big sale on vegan chocolate chip cookies. Time to stock up.”


End file.
